


Robin's Egg Blue

by whoremet



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fast-ish burn, Fred doesn't die, Panic Attacks, fuck the canon we die like men, im a sucker for fluff tbh, ravenclaw is #1 change my mind
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:15:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23371528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whoremet/pseuds/whoremet
Summary: We were only sixteen then. I had kissed one girl by accident, another on a dare. Though I happen to think that if it had not been for you I would have been the sixth year’s Casanova. But you've had me in the palm of your hand since we were eleven, when we met at Ollivanders. You were always going to be mine, Eleanor. You didn’t know it until we were sixteen, but it was like one of those stupid muggle movies you love so much. I, the noble, dashing, talented, hilarious, prince charming, you a beautiful princess from another kingdom, beauty like that of an ocean: uproarious and powerful. Our eyes met, and in an instant, we had fallen in love.When we were young and full of dreams; and did not yet understand the meaning of love.
Relationships: Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Fred Weasley/Reader
Comments: 11
Kudos: 23





	1. Fred Weasley is not without his merits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I Fall In Love Too Easily - Chet Baker  
> Smoke Dreams - Jo Stafford  
> Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want - The Smiths  
> Just - Radiohead

Eleanor Waters was remarkably average. Her mother and father ran a rescue shelter for injured creatures, both magical and not just outside Birmingham. They lived on three acres of land with enough space for the animals to recuperate and the cottage the three of them lived in. Eleanor had lived an altogether peaceful life. There wasn’t much need to leave home as her mother, who had a master’s in Herbology, would grow their food and more often than not sew their clothes. She lived in the company of all manner of creatures and her mother’s garden. She had begun to learn simple incantations when she was very young, just healing spells she would mutter under her breath, barely strong enough to mend an owl’s wing, but for a girl of eight, she supposed it was impressive. She was a scholar in the making, or that’s what her mother would say whenever she saw Eleanor and her father holed up in his study with piles of books and scrolls surrounding them. Michael Waters stood a 6’4” exactly. He had reached this height at sixteen and had asked Madam Pomphry to cast a spell so he would grow no taller. She obliged if purely because the idea of a seventh year standing at more than two meters high frightened the life out of her. He was a bit of a muggle enthusiast and he often exchanged letters with another such connoisseur called Arthur Weasley. Michael had a head of tousled black hair that could only belong to a scholar, brown eyes, and a pair of rectangle glasses perched on a nose that was crooked as the result of a broken bone he had never bothered to properly mend. He was significantly paler than her mother, who spent all her time in the sun. Hestia Waters was the picture of her great-great-great aunt, Rowena Ravenclaw. She had the same shade of black hair, though Hestia’s was cut around her ears and had streaks of grey, and the same blue eyes that seemed to resemble chasms, or the petals of a forget-me-not.

Eleanor had led what she supposed to be an unconventional childhood for a girl of her blood status. Most pure-blood girls grew up knowing they were being groomed to enter society and meet a good pure-blood boy, but Eleanor knew nothing of that. The most she saw of society was the odd family friend that would drop by and stay for a month or two, like one of the animals they cared for. It wasn’t until someone who was decidedly _not_ a family friend dropped by that Eleanor caught a glimpse of what wizard society truly was.

She was ten years old when the Malfoy’s came to visit. She thought Lucius looked more like a statue than a human, not only because his hair matched his skin in sickly pallor, but because his eyes were void of the spark she had attributed to humanity. That little flicker of kindness she found in beasts and people alike. Lucius had frightened her, and so would his wife had she not sent her the briefest flicker of a smile, the twitch of her lips had faded too quickly, almost as if the woman was afraid her husband would catch her with a smile on her face. They had brought along little pale Draco with them, who’s stiff countenance and posture was so opposite Eleanor’s it was almost laughable. Eleanor lived her every waking moment in the sun, her eyes were a wide glimmering amber, and her hair fell in jet black ringlets down her back. She had initially smiled at Draco when their parents had left them to convene in her father’s study, but he did not return her smile. She was inexperienced with children her age as most of her time was spent with adults or animals, but she did make an attempt to be kind to him.

“Draco’s a funny name.” she had not said it to be cruel. Eleanor was only commenting on his originality, it had never occurred to her that being different might be a bad thing. But when his impassive statuesque expression (unnerving on the face of a child) had morphed into one of devastating rage she had realized her mistake. When Draco had left Eleanor had made it a point to tell her mother and father that the Malfoys were not very nice people. Her parents had agreed.

It was in the spring of her ninth year that Uncle Remus had first visited. It had been seven years since the Waters’s had heard anything from their old friend. After the war had disappeared along with most of their old comrades. It was storming that night and Eleanor had been kept awake by the claps of thunder, making abrupt eye-contact with the nearly full moon. Petrified, she wanted to go to her parents but feared that she would wake them. When she heard something topple over in the kitchen she was finally induced to rise from the strangling hold of her sky blue sheets and find her mother and father. What she found instead was her crying panicked mother destroying their kitchen in a frantic search for something that apparently could not be found, and her father hunched over what appeared to be a dead body. Only it wasn’t a dead body, because it was convulsing and bleeding uncontrollably.

“Dad? Who is that?”

“My wand! Get my wand, Eleanor!” the girl was frozen in place, looking at the rolled over eyes on a one Remus Lupin. “Now, Eleanor!” she leaped to action. This was nothing new, it was often that she would awake to see her parents scrambling to heal some poor mangled creature, only this time it wasn’t an animal. She found her father’s wand and he began murmuring healing spells as soon as it was in his hand. Then she went to the kitchen and found what her poor panicked mother was looking for, a vial of Wiggenweld potion. Most of the potion was kept in the storehouse near the animals, it was rare that a member of the family would injure themselves badly enough to warrant anything more than a simple incantation. But it was kept on hand in case of emergency’s; like when Eleanor had fractured her skull on a rock making an attempt at levitation in their garden.

Her mother had tutted while brushing her locks of hair away from her face. _“You must learn to be patient with yourself, Elly. Everything comes in time and there isn’t any rush for you to grow up so quickly.”_ Eleanor had learned her lesson, but not quite in the way her mother had wanted her to. She stopped levitating on rocky terrain, but she continued over her bed, stabilizing herself until she was sure of her abilities. Mrs. Waters always joked and said it was no wonder Eleanor was so ambitious seeing as Mr. Waters had ended up in Slytherin.

She stayed up all night watching over the sleeping form of Remus Lupin. It was not uncommon to find Eleanor Waters lain on the hay-strewn floor of the shelter, nothing but a wooly blanket to accompany her as she watched over a new animal. They were always the most frightened on their first nights, no doubt expecting the same heavy hand that those outside of _Ravenclaw's Rescues_ used too often.

Remus Lupin awoke to the wide curious eyes of Eleanor Waters, and for a minute he had mistaken her for an owl. She only stared at him as he sat up on the cot her parents had made up for him, not offering a word as she assessed this new acquaintance.

“You must be Eleanor, I am Remus Lupin.” he was the first to speak, reaching his hand out to greet the girl. She placed her hand, which was four times smaller in his and gave it a firm shake.

“Are you okay?” he grimaced as he swung his legs over the side of the cot, which no doubt pulled the still healing wound on his side.

“Much better now thanks to your parents.” she nodded and handed him a mug of tea she had prepared for him. “Why thank you, Eleanor, that’s very kind.” he blew away a curl of steam and took a sip.

“How do you know my mum and dad?” he paused and looked over her slowly, trying to gauge how much he was in his right to divulge.

“Do you know anything about what happened before you were born?” she nodded proudly, despite her age her parents had not tried to shield her from the truths of the world, only help her understand how to live with them. She fancied herself a proper adult with all the history texts she had read and her knowledge of the war. Her parents were too amused to tell her any differently.

“He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named started a group called the Death Eaters who were founded on the principle that pure-blooded wizards and witches are superior to half-bloods and muggle-borns. Seeing as that’s ridiculous, the Order of the Pheonix was formed in order to put an end to his reign of terror.” Remus smiled, amused. She had recited that passage from _Modern Magical History, 1725-Present_ , he remembered Mr. Waters reading it to him when the book was first published.

“Indeed, well, your mother and father built this place as a sanctuary for injured witches and wizards during the war. Rowena Ravenclaw herself cast the protective enchantments here and it was one of the few barriers that Voldemort-” she gasped at the sound of his name, eyes darting as though he might climb from the plaster. “... could not penetrate. They are incredibly brave, your mum and dad.” Eleanor smiled and nodded, she knew this of course. Her mum and dad were easily the best people in the world, everyone said so.

They sat in silence for a while, Remus clasping his mug and Eleanor pondering the possibility of developing a new friendship. “Are you hungry, Mr. Lupin?”

“Starved, actually.”

“How do you like your eggs?” she was already padding to the kitchen.

Remus Lupin stayed with the Waters for five months. They converted Mrs. Waters's indoor botany lab back into a guest room and her vials and herbs and things scattered from the kitchen all the way to Ravenclaw's Rescues. Eleanor began calling Remus 'Uncle Remy' on the second day of his stay, and they kept up correspondence long after he had left. It had been a while since Remus was Remy to anyone, much less _Uncle_ Remy, so he lavished gifts upon her and never failed to visit on either Christmas or her birthday. She had a bookshelf filled with books he had gifted her, as well as the odd trinket. A Cornish music box that was said to have belonged to a cannibalistic Vampire, a toy from the muggle world called a Magic 8-Ball, that was probably the least magical thing he had given her. The best gift had been on her eleventh birthday. He had not come to give it in person as he was away Greenland studying something that was sure to be morbid in a cave that was probably cold enough to make him lose a toe or two. He sent along a picture of the icy coast, two baby polar bears wrestling in the snow. She tore through the brown wrapping like a lion tearing into a zebra. There, nestled in the paper was a wooden box, orange poppies painted on the lid. It was long, the size of half of her forearm, she opened it and her mouth fell open.

“ _Merlin’s beard._ ” she whispered in awe, there, laying on a pillow, was the cutest kitten Eleanor had ever seen in her life. Her mother burst out laughing when she leaned over to see what her daughter was so shocked about.

“Oh, Remus! He _would_ do something like this. Darling, come see what Lupin gave your daughter.” Mr. Waters chuckled fondly.

“Well it’s perfect timing, now you have a pet for Hogwarts.” it’s coloring was Siamese, but the coat was too long for it to be purebred. She poked his black nose and the kitten blinked two blue pools up at her in annoyance, twitching its’ tiny tail and turning away from her. She giggled and lifted the kitten from its bed gently, ignoring its meows of protest. She still had an animal bed from when she had kept a family of hedgehogs in her room last summer. She set the bed beside her desk as she began to write a thank you note for Lupin.

_Uncle Remy,_

_Thanks for my present! I’ve helped care for cats before but I’ve never really had one of my own so you can imagine how delighted I was when I opened the box, which, by the way, is the prettiest thing I think I’ve ever seen. I’ll be bringing both box and cat to Hogwarts when my term begins. Mum is hoping I’ll be sorted into Ravenclaw to hold uphold the family legacy, but dad reckons I’d do better in Slytherin, and I know you and all their other friends must be partial to Gryfindor so I really have no idea what to think. I’m still trying to find a name for him, I think he’s still warming up to me so after we know each other better I’ll be able to find something suitable. Despite how happy I was to get him in the post, I was disappointed not to have you over this year. You will come for Christmas, won’t you? I won’t come home at all if you don’t visit and I’ll be sure to tell my parents that the estrangement of their daughter is entirely your fault._ _How is Greenland? What are you researching? Stay safe, Uncle Remy. Don’t go getting yourself killed. And thanks again for Bird, he really is the best cat._

_Much love,_

_Ele_

Her mother also slipped a vial of crushed Bicorn horn and Mandrake root with instructions for a dash to be put in in cup of morning tea, it would keep him warm throughout the day, and the letter was sent.

Spring and Summer passed unremarkably. She was left to tend to customers who wanted to adopt and was also placed in charge of the upkeep of the stables. In the morning she would help her mother in the garden, though that often meant reading a book under the yew tree while Bird attacked unsuspecting bees and butterflies. When the time came to begin preparing for Hogwarts, Eleanor experienced the joy of having her first panic attack.

She was sat on the floor of her bedroom, knees jutting sharply into the center of her chest as if that would make things any better. Bird was incredibly concerned, his meows getting louder the longer she didn’t reassure him that she was okay. But she could scarcely hear anything other than the rush of blood in her ears. The cat stood on his hind legs and placed his paws on her knees, his tiny grey face darting around, trying to understand what was wrong. She had known less than ten children in her life, and none of the few she knew kept in touch with her. What would it be like to be trapped in a castle without any means of escape? The concept of independence had always intrigued Eleanor, going off on hundreds of adventures, not a care in the world. But as the reality of being alone began to dawn on her she realized that she might not be ready for anything like that. There was a knock at the door.

“Alright dear?”

“Fine mum!" she shouted.

“Alright, we leave for Diagon alley at noon!”

“Fine!”

The footsteps of her mother receded and Eleanor’s panicked breaths returned, succinctly followed by a helpless sob. Eleanor squeezed herself tighter and furrowed her brow, trying desperately to calm down.

_It’s just a school, loads of kids go there all the time and they’re all fine, you will be too. If all those other kids can do it why shouldn’t you? Mum and dad fought in a war, Uncle Remy travels the world, this is nothing. You could be dead in a ditch, you could be fighting in a war, this is fine. This is minor. This is fine. This is minor. This is fine. This is minor._

She repeated this mantra in her head until she felt well enough to stand. Bird had long given up meowing. He had instead lain in front of her feet, occasionally licking her big toe to remind her she wasn’t alone, or that’s what she liked to think at least. She looked into the ornamental mirror that had belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw, and now sat in the corner of an eleven-year old’s room, and scowled angrily at herself. She pushed her long hair from her face and stared at herself until the red had gone from her cheeks and the tracks of her tears had dried. She gave a deep breath and pulled on a blue cable knit jumper.

“Mum!” she called. “I’m ready!” her mother popped her head out of the kitchen, flour on her forehead and covering her black shirt.

“Perfect, darling, let me just change this shirt and we’ll be on our way.”

The Waters stepped into the fireplace after Mr. Waters shouted ‘Diagon Alley’ and all Eleanor could see for a handful of seconds was green.

“Alright darling, where do you want to go first?” Eleanor looked at her father as if he had just asked the stupidest question ever asked by anyone. He sucked his teeth in amusement. “Ollivanders. Right.” he led the way confidently, parting the crowd easily with his remarkably tall stature. Eleanor followed with her heart drumming in her chest. She was not at all apprehensive about this part of the process. This was something that Eleanor had sought too eagerly. She often fashioned pretend wands from the fallen twigs of the yew tree in her yard, flourishing them through the air best she could and yelling out spells she had heard her mother and father using. When the door to Olivander’s opened and she stepped inside for the first time she almost cried out from happiness. At last, she was becoming a proper witch. There were a pair of ginger boys already there, they stood with a man Eleanor assumed must be their father. One of the twins already had his wand, he sat with the parcel on his lap, patiently waiting as his brother tested another one.

“Pine, Pheonix feather core, 11 ¾, flexible.” an old man said, emerging from behind a bookshelf that reached the ceiling and was stuffed to the brim with all manner of wands.

Eleanor could tell her father was eager to speak with the red-haired man, but he waited patiently for the boy to test the wand. He did and a bright orange firework shot from the tip, exploding and scattering in the air.

“We’ve found your wand, Mr. Weasley.” as soon as the boy’s wand was taken by Ollivander to be wrapped Mr. Waters stepped forward.

“Arthur!" he greeted jovially. The pear-shaped man turned with a wide grin and the two men embraced, remarking on how very long it had been since they had seen each other. “This is my daughter, Eleanor, Elly this is my friend Mr. Weasley, you remember him don’t you? He’s the one you gave you that stuffed owl on your sixth birthday.” ah yes, she remembered that owl. It had been her bedtime companion for years until a particularly nasty manticore and ripped it to shreds. She also vaguely remembered the presence of the Weasley’s on her sixth birthday party. He had two boys here age who had been absolute _terrors,_ she had begged her mother not to invite them back after she saw them goading a dying Pheonix, but children could be cruel. She was certain they had matured since then. Not to mention she had got on well enough with their older brothers.

“Yes! Mr. Weasley, it’s lovely to see you again.”

“These are two of mine, Fred, George, come say hello.” the twins stood and greeted Eleanor’s mother and father with perfectly pleasant smiles. The three adults had fallen into what appeared to be a very heated discussion about toaster ovens and Eleanor looked at the twins awkwardly as they waited for Fred’s wand to be wrapped.

“So you two are first years?” it was a stupid question. She knew they were first years, they were the same age as her. Their faces brightened despite the redundancy of her question, however, and she was relieved. “I think I’ll be getting into Ravenclaw.” they scoffed and exchanged glances.

“Really, Eleanor, you ought to hope for better for yourself…”

“... Everyone knows _Gryffindor_ is the best house.”

Eleanor smiled, she was used to the playful house rivalry. It had no real meaning behind it, but it also offered a false sense of intimacy she felt she needed in order to steal her nerves and stop asking stupid questions.

“And let me guess, your mummy told you that?” she asked with on black eyebrow arched high above the other.

“No.” George denied with a smile.

“We happen to know it for a fact.” Fred put on a fake haughty air that reminded Eleanor of the very real one Draco Malfoy always wore. She laughed at him and rolled her eyes. “Though, I s’pose it wouldn’t be _too_ bad to be in Ravenclaw.”

“You do look dashing in blue, Freddie.”

“Yeah, but you look horrid George, it completely washes you out.” George conceded with a nod.

“Are you sure you could even make Ravenclaw? Aren’t they supposed to be intellectuals?” her kind smile let them know she was joking and the twins mocked offense.

“I’ll have you know that I am supremely intellectual,” George affirmed Fred’s statement.

“It’s true, I once saw him reading Socrates.”

“Well color me impressed.” Eleanor did not look the least impressed.

“Here is your wand, Mr. Weasley, use it wisely, and Mr. Weasley, that’ll be fourteen galleons.” Eleanor saw Fred and George wince when Ollivander gave voice to the total and she stepped a bit closer to them instinctively. Mr. Weasley paid without fuss and the boys immediately tore through Ollivander’s careful wrapping.

“Where’re you off to now, Arthur?”

“Home, I s’spect. Though Molly won’t be home for a few hours.”

“What do you say to a glass of ale? My treat.” Arthur seemed to be about to object before Mrs. Waters stepped in.

“I’ll look after the boys, Arthur, you two go catch up.” Hestia’s smile was warm and she pat Arthur gently on the arm.

“Only if it’s not too much trouble, Hestia- Fred and George can be a bit-” Hestia rolled her forget-me-not eyes.

“Arthur, if I can handle a room full of injured and wizards I can handle a pair of eleven-year-olds.” relief washed over Arthur’s face and he agreed to go with Mr. Waters enthusiastically.

“Fred, George, _behave._ ” the twins waved cheerily to their father and Hestia smiled at the impish boys, settling on a chair and watching Eleanor pick up the first want offered to her by Olivander.

“Little Eleanor Waters,” his crow’s feet deepened as he smiled at her. “I was wondering when you’d come to my shop, I remember your wand Hestia, Chestnut wood, dragon heartstring core, 9 ½ inches.” she nodded, patting the pocket of her dungarees, where her wand was pressed against her chest.

“It’s served me well for many years.”

“Then let’s find one that’ll do the same for you, shall we Ms. Waters?” he unboxed the wand he was holding. “Cypress wood, dragon heartstring core, eight inches, slightly springy.”

Her hand clasped around the handle and she knew immediately this was nit the wand for her. She released it as though the wood burned her, frowning at the stick in Ollivander’s hand.

“Not this one, eh? Alright... Let’s see… Let’s see… Ah! Here we are, Dogwood, Pheonix feather core, 8 ¾.”

Eleanor, at least, did not experience immediate revolution upon touching this want. She held it a lot and gave it a hearty slash through the air, a window shattered and she shrieked, clamping her hands over her ears. Her mother looked extraordinarily surprised.

“Volatile,” Ollivander remarked, and he wasn’t referring to the wand. He quickly mended the window before disappearing again among the stacks of wands, giving Fred time to send her a thumbs up in congratulations.

“George didn’t shatter _anything_ while he was testing wands.”

“Pity.” Eleanor said, still slightly jarred from the suddenness of the glass breaking. Her mother and father had experienced nothing of the sort while trying their wands out.

“Here it is Ms. Waters! Just what I was looking for, Yew, Pheonix feather core, 11 ½, flexible.” she took it gingerly, afraid of a repeat. It was lovely polished white, the handle was carved to look like feathers. It was perfectly straight, and rather thick, though it tapered to a thin point. She waved the wand gently this time, like a conductor, and a series of purple sparks floated out, flying and filling the air, before slowly going out. “I believe we have found your wand, Ms. Waters.” Ollivander looked pleased and Mrs. Waters quickly paid and thanked him.

Fred and George were asked if they would prefer to return to their father or go shopping for Eleanor’s school supplies. Fred looked at Eleanor and the pair smiled simultaneously, then the question was good as answered. They spent three more hours together, gathering supplies and books (Eleanor got five books that were not on the list). They were on their way to Snuddlefoot’s Stitching to pick out three pairs of school robes when Eleanor suggested they stop for ice cream.

“Would you boys like ice cream-? Who am I kidding? What sort of child doesn’t like ice cream?”

“One of reprehensible character, that’s to be sure Mrs. Waters,” Fred informed her. Hestia nodded solemnly.

“I trust you Weasley boys don't spend any time with that shady lot.”

“Not at all, Mrs. Waters, we would never hang around that sort.”

“Good, then what flavor would you like?” she approached the counter and put in her order for black cherry and Eleanor’s of peanut butter fudge, waiting patiently for Fred and George to make their decision.

“I’ll take chocolate please,” George told the man.

“The same.”

Ice cream in hand, Fred and George educated Eleanor on fashion no’s, and informed her that periwinkle washed her out, though she wasn’t convinced they knew what periwinkle was.

“And a dress, love? In my day we had balls, banquets, the like, you’ll be wanting to look your best!” Hestia practically sang as she spun down the fancy dress isle. She pulled out something with lace and tutted, putting it back.

“I don’t think first years are invited to those, mum.” she frowned.

“Pity. In your third year, then.” They stood at the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron, Eleanor wishing to prolong the Weasley’s departure. She felt for the first time in a while, at peace. Like she belonged. Fred and George had completely alleviated her fears and inhibitions, if everyone at Hogwarts was like them, forget going, she would never leave!

She smiled sadly, unsure of what to do, they seemed to be wondering the same thing.

“I’ll see you in three weeks, then.” she cleared her throat awkwardly, turning to follow her mum into the Leaky Cauldron.

“Er-! Say, Waters, write to me, won’t you? Maybe if I do some last-minute studying I’ll have a chance at being an intellectual, and I’m at a loss for what to read.” she grinned and tucked her hair behind her ear, pulling out a neverending ink quill she had stuck in there.

“Give me your hand, Weasley.” he quickly obliged, all but thrusting his arm into her grasp. She quickly scrawled her address on his freckled skin. “Write me, then.” she quickly added, “You too George, some reading would do you good.” he frowned distastefully.

“I’m not a traitor like Fred,” he said pointedly, pretending to glare at his brother.

“Whatever you say Georgie.” she laughed. “Bye, then.” her eyes met Fred’s and both looked away quickly. “I’ll see you two soon.” she grinned and gave a cheeky wave goodbye, jogging after her mother who was shouting at her to hurry.


	2. Romantic Purgatory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lounge Act - Nirvana  
> I Wanna Be Your Dog - The Stooges  
> Famous Blue Raincoat - Leonard Cohen  
> Love My Way - The Psychedellic Furs

“Shut _up_ Weasley!”

“Ow! Waters, that _hurt_.”

“It’s not my fault you’re being such a _prick_.”

That shut him up. For a while, at least. Eleanor was still stewing in her anger as they ducked into the Herbology Research Wing. Eleanor’s mother had worked here out of Hogwarts but had quit after half a year because they were ‘bureaucratic bigots with dick for brains’ and ‘the man’. Mr. Weasley had brought them on an errand to London, they were supposed to be at the cafe just across the street, _and stay there. I mean it Fred, this isn’t like last time._ Fred grinned at the thought of his father’s words, because of course this was like last time. Fred was half tempted to grab Eleanor’s shoulder and scare her, but he really wanted to see what was in the lab so he didn’t for fear of being caught. He could cast a silencing charm, of course. And it wouldn’t matter because Eleanor would forgive him on account of he was ‘just a stupid immature boy’ and Fred's antics had become not-so-secretly endearing to her over the course of their friendship.

“Lumos.” Eleanor whispered to her wand. It illuminated her face in a way that chilled his spine and made his teeth chatter, but somehow he was drawn closer, the shadows under her eyes as he held her wand up to illuminate tags and files, occasionally taking pictures of DNA chains. She looked like a macabre portrait of a princess. Like Dorian grey half into his decent to sin. Fred was drawn immediatly to the shadows that hollowed her cheeks, and sunk in her vibrant amber eyes. He wanted to touch her, to reach out his hand and run his fingers from shoulder to shoulder, twine a lock of her ebony hair around his finger. But he didn't.

Hestia Waters would love this, Eleanor often joked that her mother would turn into a plant if given the chance. It was sad to see her mother turn to laugh with Mr. Waters when Eleanor joked. Mrs. Waters would fight to keep the smile on her face, pretending she hadn’t darkened the mood, but it was glaringly obvious. The empty hole of a chair where he used to sit. No one sat there anymore, for fear of being engulfed. It was not just her countenance that carried these whispers of unspoken grief, Eleanor's soul also felt her dad’s absence.

Fred finally reached for her. When it had become too much to see her and _not_ touch her. He offered a weak grin when she turned scrutinizing eyes on him.

“I’m scared of the dark.”

She didn’t question him further. She knew he was joking, but Fred knew that if he had grabbed Angelina or Katie’s hand, which, for the record, he _definitely wouldn’t,_ they would have shouted at him to keep his hands to himself. Which would of course alert the parole in the hall, which would get them in trouble with his dad. Fred didn’t care, it was fine, right? I mean, he was Fred _fucking_ Weasley, Fred ‘eats danger for breakfast’ Weasley, fears no authority, faces any concequence with a laugh. She expected him to be confident, but for the life of him, Fred could not work up the courage to say it. ‘ _I fucking love you Waters.’_ no, too brash. _‘Waters, I happed to notice you’re not going with anyone to hogsmeade-’_ no, he wasn’t _Ron_ . He would not resort to goading his future girlfriend into dating him. Eleanor was, what? Class, hilarious, _perfect_. What could he say? She dropped his hand.

“Did you hear?” she asked, turning around and snapping a picture of him. Dodging when he reached for her hand again.

“Hear what?” he hooked his index finger in her belt loop.

“They’ve started human testing on a cure for lycanthropy.” Fred pursed his lips, but he didn’t stop walking. Eleanor turned back around and curled her hand around his, bringing him to walk beside her.

“Ele, they’re always doing something or other for lycanthropy. It’s like cure-alls for acne love, they don’t exist.” Fred rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, but it did little to soothe her. “D’you want to head back?” she scoffed and shook her head.

“I’m tougher than that, Weasley. You don’t have to treat me like I’m made of glass.” Eleanor hooked her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Besides, you wanted, what was it again?” Fred nodded.

“Dragonfly bush, your mom won’t sell a beginning pot for me, I don’t know _why-_ ”

“You know very _well_ why.”

Hestia was against the brewing of love potion for profit. Which Eleanor thought sensible. Fred had let her see the finished product. It was light rosy pink, silver when it caught the light, and it had a light white mist that had smelled of honeysuckle, parchment, cinnamon, and pine needles. Eleanor would have fallen head-first into the cauldron if Fred hadn’t closed the lid. He wasn’t a complete prick; he would never give amortentia to Elly, even this mild version of it. They continued their research, and soon ‘love potion’ was added to their list of the products they would carry in their future business. Fred and George didn’t really want it known that they meant to start a business, but they couldn’t really help but talk about it, Elly made it verbally known that Professor Trelawney chalked it up to all the Leo in his birth chart. Then Fred would scoff indignantly and call the Professor an old bird, and compare her to a bat, to which Eleanor would inform him that bats weren’t blind, they were just nocturnal, which would make him all huffy, complaining that Eleanor was a know-it-all and liked arguing too much. Although he really shouldn’t have been surprised, what more can you expect from a Ravenclaw?

“Shit, Waters, get down!”

“What?”

Eleanor didn’t get down in time, the door opened just as Fred was grabbing the lapel of her coat to pull her down. She made direct contact with a snivelly wizard in a white lab coat.

“Uhh, hello sir, I don’t believe we’ve met.” she put on an air of candor, picking up a stray watering can as she approached the man, praying that he would buy it. I mean, it was summer, and a big operation like the Ministry of Magic had to have staff turnaround all the time, right? It wasn’t completely inconceivable. “I’m the new intern, Bella King.” a Slytherin girl in the third year. “You might know my mum, big woman? Blonde hair, she works here.” Eleanor slipped her hand into her robe, trying to be subtle as she pointed it to the ministry worker through her coat. “ _Confundus_.” she whispered, watching his eyes glaze over.

“Ah yes! Of course, Mrs. King, lovely woman.” he said with a stupid smile. Eleanor smiled softly.

“Yes sir, well, I’m almost finished watering the plants, but,” she giggled, tapping the palm of her hand against her forehead. “I can’t seem to find the Dragonfly bush! Silly me.” the man nodded sympathetically, taking her elbow and leading her behind a clear curtain to a different room.

“Of course, of course, we just keep it in a colder room, see, Dragonfly responds poorly to the heat.” the ministry man smiled and bid Eleanor goodbye.

“Freddie! You can come out!” she called, staring at the clear iridescent leaves of the coveted plant.

“You are _brilliant_ .” Fred wrapped her in a hug that buzzed with restless energy, and smacked his lips against her cheek. He turned to look at the bush and laughed, rubbing his hand through his hair. “Eleanor Waters, you’ve done it again.” he swung his arm around her shoulders. “Prankster extraordinaire, lying to ministry workers and stealing for me, I have to admit Waters, I’ve been an _great_ influence on you.” Eleanor rolled her eyes and pushed the ginger off.

“Fred Weasley I was lying to authorities long before I met you, don’t give yourself too much credit.” he grinned and clipped off a branch of the bush to replant.

“Hopefully we’ll be gone by the time they notice that.” Fred said, gesturing to the blue sap that dripped where he had used his wand to sever the bush.

“It’ll be fine, we have to leave though.” Eleanor grabbed his hand to get him to the door more quickly. “Your father will be looking for us soon, we should have coffees at the cafe so he isn’t suspicious.”

The pair made their way through the Ministry with little to no disruption, though it should be expected that they would turn a few heads considering they were the only people under the age of seventeen in the entire building. By the time Mr. Weasley had finished his business Eleanor and Fred were sitting inconspicuously with two cappuccinos, Ipanema was reading a book listening to Mr. Weasley’s cassette player, and Fred had the other earphone in, reading with her. Sometimes his hand would reach up to stop her from turning the page and she would wait patiently for him to finish. Fred often had a hard time focusing, but he was on par with any Ravenclaw, just not in a bookish way. Eleanor was the opposite in that she loved to read. She could read for days on end without giving it a single thought, but Fred would get restless.

During the past year Eleanor began to question why Fred didn’t get it over with. He acted like she was his girlfriend, they didn’t date anyone else, but they also weren’t dating each other. It was like some horrible purgatory. Angelina, Alouette and Katie weren’t at all helpful. She didn’t want to stop hanging out with Fred all together, only for him to step up. By the time their fifth year started Eleanor was already beginning to lose hope that Fred would ever be anything more than her friend.

“Alright kids, better get back, your mum’ll be wondering where we are.” Eleanor smiled up at Mr. Weasley and pressed pause on the cassette. “Did you two have fun?” Fred shared a sly look with Eleanor, which Mr. Weasley wisely chose to ignore.

“Yeah dad, we had lots of fun.” Fred wrapped his arm around Eleanor’s shoulders and the trio piled into Mr. Weasley’s car, making a quick return to the Burrow.

Eleanor had no time to breathe, or even think before Molly wrapped her in a crushing hug. She had been spending at least a week of her summer vacation at the Burrow since her first year and Molly quickly became like a second mother to her.

“Oh darling! It’s so lovely to see you again! Do you look skinnier? You do, have you been eating enough? You sit, sit! I’ll make you some tea and a nice ham sandwich.” Eleanor sat with a warm smile to Mrs. Weasley, crossing her ankles properly and watching the older woman bustle around the kitchen.

“I’ve missed you Mrs. Weasley, my mum says you and Mr. Weasley are welcome for tea any time.” she could see Molly’s bright eyes sadden at the mention of Hestia Waters.

“Yes, of course dear, Arthur, you send her an owl right away, while you’re all at the World Cup Hestia and I will spend the day together. We really haven’t seen enough of each other, since…” Molly’s eyes became awkward, and an uncomfortable tension settled in the air, like it always did when someone alluded to the war.

“Yes, well, she really hangs around fauna too much, I think some human companionship would do her good.” Eleanor cleared her throat awkwardly and wrapped her hands around the mug of tea Molly had given her.

“Elly! A couple of us are playing quidditch in the yard! D’you want to join?”

“Er- yeah Fred, I’ll be right there, wait for me!”

She heard a half groan and took that to mean that Fred would wait for her until he got impatient.

“You ought to go, dear, or else all the seeker positions will be taken.” Molly smiled softly at the girl, and as most of her mother’s friends did, saw a reflection of the girl’s deceased father reflected in her. “Your sandwich will be hear when you kids are done, and tell Fred and George that if they break another window there will be _Hell to pay_.” Eleanor grinned and kissed Molly on the cheek.

“I’ll make sure they know, Mrs. Weasley.”

Eleanor jumped to her feet and grabbed her broom from the patio, she had never bother to put it away since their game yesterday.

“Have teams been made already?”

It was Fred and George, Ron, Harry, Ginny, Eleanor, and a couple kids who were visiting their grandmothers for summer in the surrounding houses.

“You’re with me, Elly. I’m beater, James and Ron are chasers, Hart’s keeper, and you of course are seeker my dear.” he said, with a grin.

“Did you make the two of them split up?” she said pointedly to Ron, who always complained that having Fred and George on the same team was an unfair advantage.

“No, we knew he’d be an absolute ninny about it so we did it without being asked.” Eleanor raised an eyebrow at George.

“That’s surprisingly mature of you Weasley, I’m impressed.” George shrugged with a proud grin.

“I like to keep you on your toes Waters.”

“Alright lads, let’s hop to it, shall we?” Eleanor tossed the Quaffle to Ginny. “Youngest gets to throw the Quaffle.”

Ginny grinned with pride when the leather of the ball hit her hands. It wasn’t that Ginny couldn’t take care of herself, of course, she could. But Eleanor often feared she was neglected by Rin and his trio of world-saving friends, and Fred and George, who oftentimes didn’t seem real. So above normal human emotion and behavior. Though the same could be said for Elly, she just didn’t realize it because she was so stuck in her own head.

“Let’s have a nice clean game, shall we?” Ginny said, mimicking almost to perfection the growl of Madam Hooch. She mounted her broom and threw the ball into the air, and Ron swooped forward and caught it. Harry and Eleanor zipped into the air in search of the snitch.

“Waters!” Eleanor looked back just in time to see a Bludger heading directly to her. She relaxed her grip on her broom and her body swung so she hung from it like a sloth, and the bludger zoomed past.

“Thanks for the heads up Freddie!” the boy in question sent her a thumbs up and Eleanor continued in her search for the golden snitch.

The game continued without an advantage to either side. When George’s team would score, soon after so would Fred’s. They were 50/50 when Eleanor saw something flash in the corner of her eye. “Hey Harry!” she shouted, sending the boy a wicked grin. Harry knew immediately what had happened. He was a good five meters from her when she dove for the snitch, he tried to get closer, arm reaching out, but Eleanor caught it. She stumbled onto the ground, groaning in pain when she skid across a rocky patch of ground, but she pushed herself to her feet with a wide grin. Fred whooped, running to Eleanor and swinging her around.

“Elly I could _kiss_ you.” Fred said, putting Eleanor back on the ground and holding her face gently, exuberant with his victory. “Bloody hell, are you _bleeding?”_ the joy was wiped from Fred’s face as all of his attention was focused on the right side of Eleanor’s face.

Eleanor’s heart was still skipping from the comment Fred had made right before he informed her that she had been severely injured as she was rolling off her broom. She huffed, annoyed but not exactly surprised.

“Fuck, probably. Don’t I always end up bleeding?” she shoved the snitch in Fred’s hand and removed her gloves, touching her cheeks, and indeed, they came away red. “I must have cut them on those rocks.” she hurried to go inside to retrieve her wand, but was stopped when Fred pulled his out of the air.

“Neat trick, isn’t it? Charlie taught me how to do it. Besides, I try to keep my wand handy considering how often you injure yourself. Honestly, you’re so dedicated to the game I could mistake you for a Gryffindor.” Fred teased, pointing his wand to the jagged cuts on Eleanor’s face and muttering _Episkey_. He took her chin and admired his work. “There, all better.” 

“Thanks Fred.”

They turned around to see George and Ginny smiling smugly at the pair of them, the rest having left when Mrs. Weasley called them in for pie. Fred cleared his throat awkwardly and Eleanor looked down at her shoes.

“So I heard there’s pie.” Eleanor told Fred.

“Really? I love pie.” Eleanor nodded in agreement and they both bustled quickly inside, avoiding eye contact with Ginny and George.

Fred and Eleanor were in such a hurry that they came in through the doorway at the same time, with much difficulty, as the doorway was not wide enough to allow two people to stand in it at once, but they did manage. When they finally stepped into the dining room conversation stopped. Mrs. Weasley had a smug smile when she told them to sit, the only seat available being right next to each other. Harry at least had the decency to look ashamed that they were obviously talking about Fred and Eleanor before the two walking in, but the rest made innuendos and strange little comments throughout the incredibly awkward lunch.

By the time Eleanor finished she very quickly mentioned that she had forgotten to feed Bird and raced upstairs, Ginny hot on her heels. There were two beds in Ginny’s room, a double bed that she and Hermione shared, and a twin-sized bed that was pushed against the opposite wall that Eleanor had been sleeping in since she was eleven.

“Bird?” she called gently, peeking under the bed skirt to see if he was hiding.

“You and Fred looked awfully cozy on the field.” Eleanor jumped when Ginny spoke. She sat up and looked at the redhead, who had situated herself on her chair, arms crossed and eyes critical. “But that’s not the only time you’ve looked so cozy.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” Eleanor feigned nonchalance, standing and brushing off her skirt.

“Come on Elly, I’ve known you for years and Fred is my brother, give me a little more credit.” Ginny wasn’t angry at the prospect of Fred and Eleanor liking each other, Elly realized. Ginny was only angry that they had been lying to her. “I’m not some stupid kid, Elly.”

Eleanor sighed and smoothed her hand over her ponytail. “I know Gin, I’m sorry. It’s just… it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“How d’you mean?”

“Well, why haven’t you told Harry you like him?”

Ginny flushed bright red, all anger vanishing in a millisecond.

“Well, it’s different, he’s-” she sighed. “Yeah I suppose I understand. Just, don’t lie to me about it.”

“I won’t. Now, can you help me look for my cat?”

Bird had burrowed himself among Ginny’s collection of stuffed bears and was chewing on Mr. Finn’s paw. They two had struggled trying to get him to release the poor bear, but they had finally succeeded. The rest of the afternoon passed lazily, Ginny polished her wand opposite of Eleanor, who had ner nose buried in a copy of _Therese Raquin_. The occasional explosion sounded from Fred and George’s room, but they used a silencing charm so it wasn’t too disruptive. But Eleanor became peeved after the fourth. She groaned and sat up abruptly, brows furrowed in annoyance.

“Alright?” Ginny asked, looking up from her broom.

“Yeah, fine, I’m just gonna find somewhere else to read.” Ginny grinned and returned her focus to her broom. “Bird.” Eleanor called as she was opening the door. Bird obediently fell into step next to his mistress and the pair made their way to Mrs. Weasley’s garden.

It was peaceful out under their weeping willow tree, if you didn’t bother the gnomes that is. But Eleanor had befriended on of them, whom she had named Sir Bob. He sometimes sat a little ways away from her and watched her read. Once, when she had been out there more than four hours she had looked up and he was sitting only twelve centimeters away. It was that day she decided he needed a name. Right on cue, after she had been sitting for a couple of minutes Sir Bob emerged from behind Mrs. Weasley’s Petunias. Eleanor smiled kindly as he waddled over and settled in his regular spot.

“‘Ello.” she greeted the gnome, who regarded her with his beady eyes, before returning to staring at the brick. She sat out there for a while, letting Bird wander around, her grip on her book growing increasingly tighter as the story drew its’ climax.

“Ow! Shit! You little wanker!” Eleanor started, dropping her book and pointing her wand at the intruder.

Fred was hopping on one leg, trying to shake of Sir Bob, who had attached himself to Fred’s shin.

“Stupefy.” Eleanor watched sadly as Sir Bob was blasted away from Fred. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, fine, I was coming out to tell you dinner’s ready when that _little shit_ attacked me.” she looked sadly at Sir Bob, who was just getting his bearings.

“He has a name you know.”

“What? You _named_ the Gnome?”

Eleanor sighed sadly when Sir Bob looked at her angrily. She had betrayed him, after all. “Sir Bob.”

“That’s not even a very good name, Waters. Honestly, I thought I had taught you better.”

“Fred Weasley I’ll have you know that he _loved_ that name, and now look! He’s cross with me.” she frowned at Fred, crossing her arms. Fred, on the other hand, looked very amused.

“Sorry Elly, I’ll try not to get bit by your rabid Gnome next time.” he made an attempt at brushing off the Gnome drool, giving up when it held fast to his pant leg. “Now come on, mum’ll be waiting.” he slung his arm around her and led her back inside the Burrow.


	3. Running away from love and Death Eaters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mis-Shapes - Pulp  
> See No Evil - Televison  
> Fake Plastic Trees - Radiohead  
> New Dawn Fades - Joy Division

One thing Eleanor Waters learned about herself on the morning of the Quidditch World Cup, is that she is definitely not a morning person. Hermione woke Ginny and Eleanor up at 4 a.m. on the dot. Despite both girl’s protests, Hermione levitated their sheets away when they tried to hide from the light under their covers.  _ Up, up, girls, honestly Ginny you’re as bad as your brother. You don’t want to be late, do you Eleanor? Hurry! _ Yes, God forbid they be late. Surly, the Earth would shatter and humanity be wiped from existence. Or at least, that’s the way Hermione made it seem as she chided Ginny and Eleanor for taking too long to lace up their boots.

Ginny leaned in to whisper to Eleanor as they trudged down the stairs. “If she doesn’t stop going on about us taking too long I’ll jinx her.” Eleanor shared Ginny’s sentiments.

“Molly Weasly you’re a  _ saint _ .” Eleanor sang Mrs. Weasley’s praises as she was handed a mug of coffee. “Do’you have any-”

“Cinnamon?” Fred handed her a shaker full of the stuff with a yawn.

Elly grinned and took the bottle happily. Ginny sent a knowing look to Eleanor, one of her brows arched in question. She knew what the younger witch was saying even without legilimency.  _ It’s like watching a married couple. _ Elly scowled and stuck her tongue out at Ginny, who in turn grinned smugly and turned to begin a conversation with Hermione.

“Thanks.” Elly said, handing the cinnamon back. Fred nodded and took a long sip of his coffee, which he didn’t take with a sprinkle of anything. Eleanor wrinkled her nose in disgust at the black coffee in his mug.

“Alright, is everyone ready?” asked Arthur Weasley after receiving his own cup of coffee, though he had the sense to at least take it with cream.

“I woke Ron and Harry up ages ago and they aren’t down yet.” Hermione informed him, miffed that no one seemed to appreciate her timeliness.

“Don’t take it too hard Mione, Ron’s just a twat.” Ginny said, offering Hermione her condolences, in what must have indeed been a very trying time.

But no degree of twatiness on Ron’s part would console her, and when the boys came down the stairs she began to lecture Ron on respect, which if nothing else, Molly must have appreciated as if saved her from having to do the same thing.

Eventually, Hermione decided her point had been made and joined Ginny and Eleanor as they walked through the forest. All the typical points of conversation were touched, the classes they would have to take in the new semester, the book Eleanor was reading, followed closely by the book Hermione was reading. The conversation took a slight detour when Ginny and Eleanor started ranting about how the Holyhead Harpies had been  _ robbed _ , but it quickly fell back on track when Ginny predictably asked about Harry, trying to pretend she wasn’t utterly infatuated with him. But it took another unexpected turn when Fred dropped a firecracker down Ron’s pants and turned around to share a look with Eleanor when Ron screamed.

“You are Fred seem awfully friendly,” Hermione commented with a not-so-subtle smile. “Has anything happened since I saw you?” Eleanor rolled her eyes when Ginny’s grin widened to match Hermione’s.

“Fred doesn’t know what he wants. He’s just a stupid boy and I’ve had it.”

“Really? Are you sure that’s a good idea Elly?” Hermione asked.

“Of course it is, Mione, we’ve been dancing around each other since we were thirteen, if he hasn’t made a move my now maybe I just have to accept that he never will.”

“Have you thought that he might be scared, Elly? It’s no small thing…” Hermione’s gaze drifted. “Telling your friend you fancy them.”

Eleanor dismissed Hermione with a shake of her head.

“When has Fred Weasley even been afraid of anything?”

Hermione and Ginny exchanged glances but held their tongues, afraid that if they argued more Elly would start ignoring Fred to prove a point, which wouldn’t be off-brand for a Ravenclaw.

“That’s Cedric Diggory isn’t it?” Hermione leaned in to whisper, pointing up at the tree they stood under, where a boy in a yellow jumper was reclining on a branch.

“God he is  _ fit _ .” Ginny commented absently, watching him jump from his place in the tree.

The trio of girls scrambled to look like they weren’t just ogling him when he turned to shoot them a dazzling smile.

“Eleanor, good to see you again.” Eleanor was clearly shocked that Cedric remembered who she was.

“Er, yeah, you too Cedric.” she answered awkwardly. They had officially met in her third year when she helped him find a book in the library and they got to talking about muggle fairy tales.

“What’ve you been up to this summer?” she had expected the conversation to end after hello and shared a stupified look with Hermione and Ginny when it didn’t.

“Working mostly, my mum runs an animal shelter, though I’ve been with the Weasley’s since last Friday.” his eyebrows rose, eyes shining with interest.

“An animal shelter? That’s really interesting, do you like it?”

“Yeah, I like it fine. Get’s sort of boring behind the counter though.”

“Did you ever end up reading that Anderson bloke I had been telling you about?” her face was immediately wiped of any apprehension.

“I did! You were right, it was fantastic, how about you? What’ve you been up to?”

Cedric grimaced. “Dad keeps me on a pretty tight schedule during the summer, doesn’t help that my N.E.W.T.s are this year, so I’ve been holed up in my bedroom with textbooks mostly.” he gave a good-natured grin, just the sort of grin you would expect from poster boy Cedric Diggory. “But I don’t mind, it’s how he shows he cares, right?” he nodded to all three girls. “Weasley, Granger, good to see you.” then he fell back into step with his father.

“How do you know Cedric Diggory?” Hermione asked in a shocked whisper, as though Eleanor’s acquaintance of this boy were some coveted secret.

“I dunno, I ran into him in the library a couple times and we got to talking about books, it’s nothing really.” Eleanor tried to brush it off in the hopes that the two piranhas would stop grilling her, but no such luck.

“Didn’t  _ look _ like nothing.”

“You’d better choose Fred over Cedric, no matter how fit Cedric is.” Eleanor rolled her eyes at Ginny.

“Honesty, you two are making a big deal of nothing. I’ve barely spoken to him.”

“You’re on a first-name basis, that’s not nothing.” Hermione pushed the subject further, desperate for answers.

“Cedric’s a friendly bloke but I have no interest in him beyond whatever book he’s reading, now drop it, alright?”

They did stop talking about it, but the unresolved tension became too much so Eleanor jogged to walk beside Fred and George instead. Fred welcomed her with a bright smile and she easily joined their conversation.

“Wait, George, do you mean to tell me that  _ four _ girls have been sending you letters this summer?” Eleanor watched him carefully, trying to find any sign that he was lying. “You’re full of shit.” she concluded.

“Elly, just cause you don’t see how charming I am does not mean that the rest of the world is so blind.” Eleanor rolled her eyes and snorted.

“You’re about as charming as a dementor George, I won’t belive you without concrete evidence.”

George rolled his eyes. “Typical Ravenclaw.” he told Fred with a disappointed shake of his head. “Alright Elly, I have the letters back home, I’ll show you them when we get back, and then you’ll have to admit that you’re wrong.” George grinned and nudged Fred in the ribs playfully. “‘S not just me, all us Weasley’s have a way with women, you should see some of the letters that Fred-” George realized his mistake too late. He looked between the wide panicked eyes of Fred, and Eleanor’s slowly fading smile and snapped his mouth shut.

Eleanor’s eyes had become stone. She was too proud to leave even though she wanted to, but she also had nothing more to say. So the trio walked in awkward silence to the portkey, Eleanor making it a point to lay down between Hermione and Ginny. Fred shot George a scathing look when she walked away.

“Sorry mate.” George offered apathetically. George thought that if Fred hadn’t said anything to Eleanor at this point, then it wasn’t his problem that they kept dancing around each other. Many people were of the same opinion.

Eleanor’s silent treatment continued well into the day. She made it a point to go dead faced every time Fred tried to join her conversation with Hermione and Ginny, then Ginny and Hermione would sigh and shake their heads, sympathetically agreeing that Fred was the biggest idiot in the world. Eleanor excused herself from the girls, saying she was going to see if she could find any food vendors selling ice cream. But Fred saw her hand slip something from her bag before she left and he quickly got up to follow her.

Sure enough, there stood Eleanor Waters, on the hill overlooking the campsite, rolling a joint. Fred’s heart lurched at the sight, God he loved her.

“Did you even find that ice cream, Ms. Waters? Or is that it?”

Eleanor grinned up at him, before remembering she was cross with him and frowning again. “Anything I can help you with Weasley?”

He flopped on the ground beside her, propping his head on his hand. “Well, since you’re offering.” he gestured for her to pass the joint and she obliged. “George is an idiot.”

“Yeah.” he passed the joint back and peered up at her. Whenever Fred and Eleanor were separated for a long time Fred began to question himself. Surely, he thought, surely no one could be that beautiful. But somehow she was. Even now, glaring out angrily at the tents, with her eyes narrowed, steam practically shooting out from her ears, she was still the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. “Sorry I was ignoring you.” her features finally softened and she looked down at him, blowing smoke out through her nose. “I was being shitty.”

Fred smiled brightly. “Just a bit.” Eleanor rolled her eyes with a grin that had finally bloomed into a full smile.

“You’re an idiot Fred Weasley.”

“Only for you, love.”

Eleanor’s attention returned to the sky, watching the sun descend behind the tents, red and green fireworks going off from every corner of the campsite. Now would have been the perfect moment, the sun setting, she had basically just told him that she loved him. Fred opened his mouth to say it.

“Eleanor, I-”

She turned her full attention to him when his sentence was left unfinished. “Yeah, Fred? You what?”

He steeled himself, sitting upright and beginning his confession again.

“Forge! Hurry! We have to put on face paint!”

Eleanor smiled apologetically to Fred.

“Why don’t you tell me later? We can’t have you cheering on the Irish without the proper attire.”

Eleanor put out the joint and tucked the half that remained in her shirt pocket, reaching her hand out to Fred to help him stand, and they climbed down the hill together. Fred’s face paint ended up being much more subtle that George’s because of the time restraints. He settled for a line of white and green on either cheek, while the only skin visible on George’s face was his eyes. Eleanor resisted at first, but when Fred pressed the matter she allowed him to paint lines identical to his in white and green, even though she was technically for Bulgaria. She was sat my Hermione with a pile of snacks in her lap when Fred stomped up, looking quite cross.

“Are you alright Freddie?” her voice was brimming with concern, though the mouthful of Bertie Bott’s Beans severely lessened the impact of her care for Fred.

“Just fine, just stepped into a steaming pile of Malfoy on the way up.”

Eleanor grimaced. “Oh gross, now you’ll smell for the rest of the night.” Fred grinned, inching closer to her. “Ugh! Fred! Keep those Malfoy germs away!  _ Ew! Ew! He touched me!” _ Fred cackled loudly as he wrapped Eleanor in his arms. “Now I smell like  _ Malfoy!” _ the pair of them leaned over the railing simultaneously to peek down at the Malfoy’s, who sent venomous glares back their way. “Aw, ickle Draco, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make light of your condition.”

Draco looked to be on the verge of screaming back at Eleanor, but a glare from his father silenced him.

“Ah, Ms. Waters.” Lucius greeted, not impolitely. “How is your father.” ah, there it was. The classic Malfoy charm.

Eleanor’s eyes narrowed and she fixed a furious glare on Lucius. Though she opted to remain silent. Poking fun at Draco was one thing, but Lucius had actual power and she was deathly afraid of any repercussions should he decide that she was worthy of squashing.

“Not a Death Eater, if that’s what you’re wondering Lucius.” Fred’s voice was light, but his eyes were angrier than even Eleanor’s.

Mr. Weasley George and Ginny stood and glared down at Lucius until he scoffed, muttering something about blood traitors and returning his attention to the arena.

“Alright dear?” Mr. Weasley, bless his heart, looked shattered when he tapped her shoulder gently.

“Fine, thanks Mr. Weasley.”

The stroke of Fred’s index finger across her knuckles might have been considered a mistake, but Eleanor knew it wasn’t. She sent him a tight smile, which would be all that she was capable of for a while, and a certain understanding was exchanged between them. Without a single thought, Fred took her hand and he held it until the conclusion of the game.

It went exactly as Fred and George had predicted, which really shouldn’t have surprised her so much considering she was the one who had bought them a crystal ball for their sixteenth birthday. But she was slightly peeved when they started acting high and mighty about it. Eleanor and Ron, being the only real fans of the Bulgarian team, stood with their arms around each other, fists to hearts, singing the Bulgarian fight song as the rest of the Weasley party booed.

“A good seeker doesn’t make a good team.” Harry declared rather loudly.

“I suppose you’d know, Harry, being the  _ only _ good player on the Gryffindor team,” Eleanor said, eyes glimmering with mischief.

“Oi!” Fred and George shouted, standing from their seats at the dining table.

Eleanor grinned, pleased to see that she got a reaction out of them. She opened her mouth to reply but she was interrupted when Mr. Weasley burst through the entrance of the tent, eyes wide and frantic.

“Kids, hurry! Come now, this is urgent!” he declared, arms waving wildly as he attempted to get all of the teenagers out.

“What’s the matter?” Harry asked as he was being pushed out by Mr. Weasley.

“No time, just grab a jacket and get outside- quickly!”

Eleanor didn’t need to be told twice, she threw Ron’s jacket at him while she was getting her own as it appeared he was bolted to the floor.

“Hurry up, Ron!” she chided, pushing him toward the exit.

Eleanor left the tent with Ron in tow, only to be stopped short by the sight of a muggle family being levitated through the campground by a group of masked wizards.

“That’s sick,” Ron muttered, watching a little boy who was spinning in the air like a top. “That is really sick.” Eleanor tightened her jaw and pulled out her wand.

“C’mon Ron.” she prompted, trying to keep from sounding too afraid. She grabbed his shirt sleeve and tugged him toward the rest of the group.

Bill, Charlie and Percy came out looking ready for battle, despite their pajama pants.

“We’re going to help the Ministry!” Mr. Weasley shouted, “You lot- get into the woods and  _ stick together. _ I’ll come and fetch you when we’ve sorted this out.”

Fred was the first to act, he took Ginny gently by the arm, pulling her toward the forest. “C’mon.” he said to the rest of them. Eleanor was the last to start walking, first watching to make sure the rest of them were alright, before turning to look one last time at the muggled boy, who’s head hung limply from his neck. He didn’t even look alive anymore. “ _ Elly _ .” Fred said sharply, his eyes darting between the boy and Eleanor, who looked like she was about to be sick. She jumped into action at the sound of his voice, hurrying to catch up with the rest of them.

All she could hear for a while was shouting. Eleanor struggled to keep her eyes forward, knowing she needed to get as far from the masked people as she could. Her throat was tight as she ran through tree branches that stung her cheeks, she didn’t care. She only wanted to be away from that muggle boy who looked dead but was still alive. When the noise was sufficiently muffled they stopped running, George immediately checked on Ginny, asking her if she was alright. Eleanor’s breaths became labored, her hands like claws around her arms as she tried to calm herself down.

_ Fuck, no, not now, it’s fine, it’s fine _ .

But it was decidedly not fine.

“Elly?!” came Fred’s panicked voice. He had never seen her like this before. “Eleanor, what’s wrong?” she sunk to the ground, pressing her head between her knees and keeping a firm grip on her ankles. “Eleanor, what is it? Are you alright?! Eleanor, say something, please.”

Eleanor tried to answer Fred, she honestly did. She hated how frightened he sounded. But she couldn’t force any words from her throat.

“Elly, ‘s’ okay, breathe, we’re safe now Elly.” Ginny said, settling beside Eleanor and running her short nail’s over the older girls’ back. Eleanor’s breath did return to normal, she hadn’t even cried, she realized as she went to wipe tears away.

“Sorry,”

“Don’t apologize Elly, it’s alright.” Ginny offered her friend a kind smile. Eleanor’s eyes darted around the clearing.   
  
“Where are they?!” she stood up quickly, running back into the forest without another thought. She brandished her wand, searching the crowd of people streaming into the forest for Ron Harry and Hermione, but no such luck.

Fred George and Ginny caught up with Eleanor and they too began looking for the missing three. Shouting their names proved useless, as their shouts were swallowed by the chaos. Ginny shouted and pointed out what appeared to be an oddly shaped cloud, but upon further inspection proved to be the Dark Mark. Eleanor blanched as an image of Harry Ron and Hermione spinning like that muggle boy entered her mind. She could see their eyes- dead but still alive.

“Let’s go to the tent.” George said, taking Ginny by the hand, and looking between Fred and Eleanor. “They probably went back.”

Fred looked at Eleanor, and she nodded absently, eyes still darting through the trees, looking for their missing friends. Fred took Eleanor’s hand and lead her from the clearing. Now the campsite was quiet, almost too quiet. After being surrounded by noise the whole day the silence was eerie. You could tell just by the taste of the air that something terrible had happened. Charlie was waiting outside the boy’s tent, his mouth set in a grim line that dissolved into relief seeing the group of four.

“Thank Merlin- where’s Ron? And Harry and Hermione?” Charlie’s neck craned to look behind them, expecting the trio to be lagging. “Are they alright?”

“We lost them in the forest,” Fred answered anxiously, his grip on Eleanor tightening.

Charlie’s mouth thinned once more, he nodded jerkily. “Alright, inside, the four of you. I’ll keep a look out.” he herded the four of them inside the tent, closing the flaps firmly behind them. Bill was fixing Percy’s nose, which appeared to be broken, on the couch.

  
  


Eleanor tried to keep still, not wanting to contribute to the tension that came with the revelation that she Fred and George had lost not only their brother, but the Boy-Who-Lived and the brightest witch of their generation. But she soon gave up and resorted to pacing the living room.

“Elly.” Fred reached forward and grabbed her wrist, pulling her down to sit beside him on the couch. “They’ve survived worse, Elly, they’ll be fine.” Eleanor nodded, but it seemed more like Fred was trying to reassure himself than he was trying to assure Eleanor of their safety.

Eleanor leaped to her feet when the tent flap opened and Mr. Weasley walked in. “Are they-” he nodded. It was as if Eleanor had been carrying the trio on her back as relief washed over her. She even afforded herself a small smile.

As soon as they walked in she hugged all three of them at once, saying phrases including, but not limited to: ‘Do you know how hurt you might’ve been?’ and ‘Next time I’ll be sure to keep a closer eye on you.’ and ‘Honestly Ron, you tripped over a  _ tree root?’ _ . But after she had fussed and made absolutely certain not one of them had been hurt she let Mr. Weasley recount the story of how Harry, Ron, and Hermione had almost been stupefied by Ministry men, and Mr. Crouch’s house-elf had been dismissed for possession of Harry’s wand. Hermione then immediately erupted into an argument with, of all people,  _ Percy Weasley _ , over the treatment of house-elves, and Mr. Weasley extremely anti-climatically sent everyone to bed.

“You alright?” Fred asked, stopping Eleanor just outside the boy’s tent. She gave him a tight smile.

“Not really, Fred, are  _ you _ alright?” she questioned him sarcastically.

“No,” he admitted. “Though I was actually referring to…” ah yes. Her meltdown in the forest.

“Yeah, I’m alright.”

“Sorry I couldn’t… Help more.” he seemed unsure of what to say. Eleanor smiled up at him, though this one was less strained than the last one. This smile was just sleepy.

“‘S’ not your fault Freddie, you can’t be expected to clean up all my messes.” she squeezed his hand. “Night Fred.”

“Night Elly.”

The group left the campsite before sunrise, Eleanor avoiding the muggle man’s eyes as they passed. He greeted him with a disoriented wave and a faint “Merry Christmas.” as they passed his cottage. Mrs. Weasley had been, if it was possible, even more worried that Eleanor the night before. Eleanor was worried the poor woman was about to cry when she saw her husband trudging tiredly back to the Burrow, his children trailing behind him equally as tired. But Mrs. Weasley was bustling with energy.

“Oh thank goodness! Thank goodness!” she cried, running down the lane with a newspaper clutched in her hand, which fell to the floor and unspooled when she embraced Mr. Weasley. “Arthur, I’ve been so worried!” she told him when she pulled back to get a good look at his face. Her attention turned behind him to Fred and George. “Oh-  _ boys!” _ her voice finally cracked then, as she pulled the twins into a hug, Eleanor watched with a wince as their heads knocked together.

“ _ Ouch _ , mum! You’re strangling us!” Fred squirmed in his mother’s firm grip.

“Molly? Are they back?” Eleanor’s head darted up at the sound of her mother’s voice. “Oh lord, Eleanor!” Mrs. Waters left the front door swinging as she ran to her only child. “Oh love, are you alright? I’d been so worried, you are alright, aren’t you? No one did anything?” Eleanor knew when her mother said ‘no one’ she meant death eaters. Elly shook her head.

“No mum, I’m fine, everything’s fine.” Eleanor tried to push her mother’s hands off as Hestia pushed her daughter’s bangs out of the way and pulled her sleeves up to inspect her for any damage. “Mum I’m quite hungry.” Eleanor declared.

“Oh of course you are, you all must be,” Molly also released Fred and George and told everyone to get inside for tea.

Hestia kept an arm around Eleanor even after they had sat at the table, which made reaching for a scone very difficult. Finally, when Mrs. Weasley began cracking eggs into a pan Hestia stood to ask if she needed any help getting breakfast together. Molly went pale and insisted that she was fine, all but pushing Hestia back into her chair. The newspaper article was read out loud and Mr. Weasley and Percy excused themselves to go “smooth things over”, shortly preceded by Harry Ron and Hermione declaring that they needed to check on something in Ron’s room and excusing themselves.

Eleanor exchanged a glance with Fred and George. “Well, me Elly and George have to, er-”

“I’ve left Bird in their room!” Elly declared with renewed vigor, eager to escape the unpleasant atmosphere of the kitchen.

Fred snapped his fingers. “Exactly, and  _ I’ve  _ left an open bag of dung bombs in my closet, so we ought to make sure your cat isn’t dead.”

Eleanor nodded, firmly agreeing. “Yep. Bye mum!” Eleanor leaped over the back of her chair and scrambled after Fred and George.

“Hey! Leave your door open! Fred! I mean it-”

Fred slammed the door shut with a grin.


	4. Fuck Fred Weasley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You Can't Always Get What You Want - The Rolling Stones  
> Cry Baby - Janis Joplin  
> Tainted Love - Soft Cell  
> White Rabbit - Jefferson Airplane

A week after the World Cup Eleanor was racing with Fred and George toward the gateway to Platform 9 ¾, which went as well as you could have expected it to. All three of them crashed into each other and fell into a big heap on the other side. Ginny, who was the second to emerge through the barrier sighed and rolled here eyes when she saw the mess they had made.  
Eleanor was the first to stand, brushing off her jeans and taking Bird from his carrier as her trunk was loaded with those of the Weasley children. She, Fred and George walked onto the Hogwarts Express, searching for an empty cabin.  
“George.” Eleanor embowed George sharply in the stomach when she saw the Hufflepuff girl he had dated last year waving to him with a sunshiny smile. “Isn’t that Violet Penn?” their breakup had not gone well. “God, I can’t believe we have two more years with her.” Eleanor cringed.  
The past year Violent Penn had insisted that Eleanor and George were in a secret relationship after George broke it off with her. In fact, she claimed that the only reason George had broken up with her at all was that he had been in engaged in a torrid love affair with Eleanor. Eleanor suffered through half a year of biased accusations and petty drama. It had been horrible. Eleanor couldn’t help that her eyes drifted to Fred after that encounter with the past. He had found the whole thing hilarious, until Violet claimed that she had seen George and Eleanor snogging in the third floor hall. They hadn’t been, of course. She was surprised that Fred had given any merit to what Violet said, but he had been incredibly upset. At one point Eleanor thought he might kiss her in the middle of the Great Hall, but afterward she convinced herself it was just imagined. She looked down when Bird meowed, blinking lazily up at her.  
The trio found an empty cabin near the back and waited for Alouette, Angelina and Lee. By the time the rest of their group joined them Eleanor and the Weasley’s had already brought out playing cards and were using licorice wands and sugar quills as money to play poker. Eleanor had the biggest pile, Eleanor could always tell when Fred and George were bluffing. As soon as Angelina came in the three of them stashed their cards. Angelina was a fantastic poker player. No one knew how but she won every game. They had even given her truth serum before a game to test her talent once, but it didn’t matter. They had soon resolved to never play poker with her again as Lou had lost a fortune to her and the rest did not want to follow suit.  
Eleanor, Fred and Lee were playing exploding snap on the floor of the cabin (and slightly in the hall), while Lou, George and Angelina exchanged Quidditch stories on the seats. Alouette had been severely injured more times than anyone in the school. Though if the past three years were any indication, Harry Potter would soon catch up.  
The relative peace of the cabin, which in all honesty was not very peaceful at all, quickly erupted into chaos when Eleanor suggested a round of Bavarian Rules Snap. Fred and George did not need to be told the rules, though they had never played before. Lou screamed when the entire deck exploded at once. Eleanor had warned her, but Lou scared easy.  
“Oh, we’re almost there.” Angelina commented when she checked her wristwatch. “You three can have the cabin,” she pointed to Fred, George, and Lee. “we’ll be in the toilet.”  
“Don’t miss me too much.” Eleanor told Fred with a smile, grabbing her robes and following Angie and Lou.  
“You think I can’t handle five minutes away from you, Waters?”  
“That’s exactly what I think.” she informed him, leaving before he could say anything else. They ran into Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell in the ladies’ and stayed chatting much longer than they had anticipated.  
“Did you see Cedric Diggory?” Katie Bell interrupted their discussion of boys, his name was met with a chorus of approval from Lou and Alicia.  
“Cedric? You mean the Hufflepuff Head Boy?” Angelina asked, trying to place his face.  
“That’s the one, Cho told me she thinks he fancies her.” Angelina rolled her eyes.  
“Yeah right, Cho’s in our year, no way a seventh year boy would like her, what are they gonna do? Date for a year then never see each other again?”  
Lou rolled her eyes. “Angie, you’re far too practical about romance. Love isn’t meant to be logical.”  
“Oh they’re in love now, are they?” Angie scoffed. “Elly, if I ever go mad over some stupid boy I give you permission to use the Killing Curse on me. No matter how fit he is.” Eleanor smiled and promised Angelina to put her out of her misery.  
“You say that now Angie, but when you get swept off your feet you’ll be biting your tongue.” Lou argued more, insisting that Angelina was wrong.  
“Not bloody likely.” Angie crossed her arms, and it appeared the pair had agreed to disagree.  
“We should be heading back,” Katie said, nudging Alicia. “Mione and Luna are probably waiting for us.  
The girls bid each other goodbye and returned to their separate cabins. Fred, George and Lee had already been dressed for ages by the time the girls returned and they were hunting a chocolate frog that got loose, it escaped when Lou opened the door.  
“Nice going Smith!” Lee yelled in a tone of voice that suggested a betrayal far greater than the loss of a chocolate frog.  
Lou was quick to yell back at him though, and soon enough the two had resorted to screaming uncreative insults at each other.  
“How long d’you think it’s going to take them to realize they’re in love with each other?” Fred asked, leaning in toward Eleanor so no one else would hear.  
“Two months.” she answered without hesitation. Fred’s eyebrow rose in challenge.  
“Are you willing to put money on that?” she matched his expression and shifted so her back was to Angie and her whole body was pointed toward Fred.  
“Before we go any further Fred, I have to warn you that I’ve never been wrong before.” her eyes were deadly serious, darting between his.  
“Neither have I Waters.”  
They shook on it. Two galleons to the winner.  
Lee and Lou argued the rest of the way to Hogwarts, and Angelina had to threaten Lee, saying that he would have to find another carriage to sit in if he didn’t stop being such a prick. They stopped arguing then, but the void their voices left was not filled. Eleanor and Lou split up with the group to join the Ravenclaw house once they arrived at the castle, running to greet the Ravenclaw girls they hadn’t seen on the train. They sat with sixth years Nichola Rowe, Evaleen Yates and Harrietta Haynes and sipped pumpkin juice as the five girls waited for the sorting to be concluded.  
That year there were fifty three first years and Eleanor was practically melting into the table by the time the last one sat down, though the applause was no less enthusiastic than it had been for any of the other fifty two. Ravenclaw had fourteen new students, all as awkward and small as Eleanor remembered being in her first year. It had been nerve wracking, sitting up on the stage with that smelly old hat (which, by the way, did not like being referred to as smelly) hanging over her eyes, waiting for it to decide her future. It had been going between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw for almost three minutes before Eleanor shouted at the hat to hurry up. It was more amused than insulted and placed her in Ravenclaw. Gryffindor booing as she walked over to her House’s table. Eleanor supposed she had played the part of a Gryffindor that night, so she wondered why the hat had not placed her with the lions, and why she sat here now with blue emblazoned on her chest instead of red.  
Not that she didn’t like being in Ravenclaw, she was only pondering the hat’s motives. A witch like Hermione seemed like she would fit in well with the crows, and Neville seemed more like a badger than a lion. But the hat had its reasons, and she couldn’t exactly look into Neville’s head to find out what that reason was, she even began to question whether she could look in her own head.  
Soon enough they were being escorted back to their dorms. Emma Morton joined their group when she managed to separate herself from Roger Davies and his rippling muscles, the six girls clambered up their stairs, Lou and Evaleen just barely managing to drag Emma away from her boyfriend so they could catch up in the dorm. Eleanor liked the girls in her dorm, but Nicola and Henrietta fell more on the snotty side of Ravenclaw and they often dampened the mood. They weren’t without their virtues, in fact Eleanor thought they were very kind, and their dedication to their education was certainly admirable, but they were guilty of having a very ‘higher-than-thou’ attitude. But people in any of the houses were guilty of the same. It was rarest in Hufflepuff, while Eleanor admitted to having met rude Hufflepuffs, their rudeness could always be attributed to something outside of themselves that made them act that way. Nicola and Henrietta were simply born already thinking they were better than everyone else.  
The first day passed by breezily. All her classes were with Hufflepuff and Slytherin, and the Hufflepuffs in her Potions class were all very well behaved, so Snape refrained from assigning an unholy amount of homework. Last year Eleanor had not been so lucky, Fred had given her some ton-tongue toffees and she had given one to Augustus Green, who had been her partner since Lou was sick, and Snape had given her detention and a three scroll essay on the healing properties of wolfsbane. It had been mind-numbingly boring, detention was always the worst with Snape. Eleanor never knew how to speak to him. The second most fearsome Professor was easy enough, McGonagall prized respect and strength of character above all other things. If you showed genuine interest in her, the conversation flowed easily, the same could be said for all the other professors. But Snape was like a mystery wrapped in an enigma, and he seemed to hate Eleanor. Luckily, Lou was one of the best Potions students in Ravenclaw. While Eleanor did not think it was genuine friendship or anything like it that went on between Lou and Snape, it was a grudging respect. Lou gave every assignment Snape gave her an earnest try no matter how ridiculous it was, and she was excellent at brewing potions.  
Eleanor had been looking forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts, if only to bear witness to Mad-Eye Moody’s teaching style, which she was certain must be far beyond convention. He seemed like the unconventional sort. She hoped to impress him, unable to shirk that particular Ravenclaw trait. Eleanor always wanted teachers to like her, especially if those teachers had a tendency to be cruel to other students. And by the way Hermione had been talking about her class with Professor Moody at lunch, that would certainly be the case.  
Eleanor made a bee-line from the cafeteria to the library as soon as she had finished eating and gathered as many books on dark magic as she could without going in the restricted section. There was a very long tortured non-silence as Eleanor Waters sat in the library with her headphones on. She was still hearing something, in fact, Ian Curtis was singing quite loudly directly in her ear. But at the same time, the other world, the real one. That wasn’t behind the closed door of her dorm, or Ian Curtis’s dreamy eyes. It was the world where Seamus Finnigan was coughing directly into the copy of 13 Habits of Highly Effective Witches and Warlocks that she had been reading only a week prior. Eleanor grimaced as he gave another hearty cough, rubbing his nose and using the same snotty hand to turn the page.  
At least she couldn’t hear him. Eleanor sighed, retrieving her wand and commanding her books to stack neatly in her bag. The gramophone she had been using to listen to music levitated behind her as she made her way to the Ravenclaw tower. She had been walking perfectly fine, eyes focused ahead of her, she wasn’t even reading like she usually was, when she was very nearly bowled over by Oliver Wood. The worst part was that Eleanor was completely aware of what was going to happen, but she was too weighed down with the books she had checked out to do anything about it.  
“Oi! Watch it Wood!” she shouted, wobbling where she stood as Oliver turned in surprise.  
To his credit, Oliver obviously felt bad about almost knocking Eleanor off her feet. He offered to walk her back to Ravenclaw tower and carried more than his share of her textbooks.  
“How was your summer, Waters? Anything exciting happen?”  
“I went to that shit-show of a World Cup, though to be fair it was quite fun before the Death Eatery bit.”  
“You went to the World Cup?”  
“I was furious when Bulgaria lost.”  
“Waters, I thought you had more sense, Ireland is clearly superior.”  
“Merlin! Stop it, you sound like Fred and George.”  
“Well it’s everything, from the formation, to the coach-” as Oliver was listing off all the reasons Ireland was better than Bulgaria his eyes took on a certain shine. It was sort of adorable how much he loved the sport. Or it would be, if it wasn’t so annoying.  
“Bulgaria has better players overall!” Eleanor interrupted, already having heard much of the same thing from Fred and George.  
“Yes, but do those players make up for poor management and no proper training? Not to mention that all the chasers are too big headed to pass the quaffle to each other. Ireland’s strength is in-”  
“Their teamwork and the fact that they work harder to win than the Bulgarians, yes yes yes, I know Wood, but you’ll be biting your tongue when Bulgaria gets their shit together.” Wood arched an eyebrow in question.  
“And when will that be Waters?” he was walking closer to her now.  
“Well by the time Krum grows a bit more, and those chasers are awfully young as well-”  
“You’re talking like you’re forty years older than Krum when you’re younger than him.”  
They had arrived at the Ravenclaw tower and Eleanor took her books back from Oliver.  
“I never said that I wasn’t immature and prideful, I’ll admit to the same flaws, I’m only saying that those things fade with age.” Oliver frowned, leaning against the blue post of the Ravenclaw door.  
“Who says that being proud is a sin?”  
“I dunno Wood, Jane Austen, Oscar Wilde, any Grimm fairy tale, Plato.” Oliver’s confusion only increased the more Eleanor spoke.  
“Read a lot of muggle literature, do you?”  
“My dad had a bunch of books, I get bored over break so I always end up reading them.” she reached up to knock on the door. “Besides, it’s not pride in and of itself, it’s pride in excess.” she told him, turning and waiting for the door knocker to wake up. “Thanks for the help, Wood.”  
“A couple people are going to the field to have a match during the free period tomorrow,” he told her rather quickly. “If you aren’t busy.”  
“ I’ll have to see how much homework Snape assigns, but if he has a change of heart and decides he doesn’t despise me anymore I’d love to drop by.”  
“Excellent, see you tomorrow.” Eleanor waved Wood goodbye as he hurried back to his friends. She had never spoken to him much outside of Gryffindor Ravenclaw Quidditch matches, and the occasional friendly chat when they happened to be alone in the library, or the first people in the Great Hall. Then it almost felt rude to sit at another table, the space between the two people was just so much more obvious. But you never knew if the other person was at all bothered by the space, or if they even wanted to talk so early in the morning.  
“I drag in the dust, I cannot live without my twin.” the door knocker said through a yawn.  
“Blimey, hope that’s not about me.” Eleanor grinned up at Fred, who always seemed to turn up wherever she was.  
“It’s not.” she told him.  
An awkward silence settled over the pair of them. She wasn’t exactly sure why the silence was awkward, but she thought it might have something to do with the angry tick in Fred’s jaw.  
“Alright?” he asked, as he stepped closer she could see the anger stewing in his eyes, his mouth pressed into a firm line.  
“Yeah, fine, you?” he shrugged.  
“Fine.” he was clearly not fine. But Eleanor couldn’t help that if he refused to tell her what was wrong.  
Eleanor rolled her eyes at him. “Boys.” she muttered as she turned her attention back to the knocker, electing to ignore Fred seeing as the reason he was angry was probably petty anyway. “A shadow,” she answered the riddle and the door swung open.  
Fred followed her in without being asked, but he was still fuming as he walked. Eleanor wondered if the other Ravenclaws could tell, or maybe they were just ignoring him. No, that couldn’t be it. Fred didn’t acknowledge it, but the heads of at least five girls darted up when they caught sight of him. Eleanor saw they all adjust their hair and cross their legs, trying in miniscule ways to appear more attractive. But Fred seemed to be too busy glaring a hole into the back of Eleanor’s head to notice.  
Michael Corner and Marietta Edgecomb sat on the floor hovering over a strange contraption made of phials and cauldrons that was housing a boiling purple slime Eleanor was almost certain Michael and Marietta would be picking from their hair in the coming weeks. Luna Lovegood was sat at a desk in one of the library alcoves, observing a dead pixie under a very large magnifying glass, an open sketchbook beside her.  
“What’re you doing Luna?” Luna looked up in that dreamy way she was always in, as if she was always mildly surprised the world continued to bustle around her when she got lost in her mind. “Noting the differences between Nargles and Pixies for a research article.” Eleanor nodded.  
“In The Quibbler, you mean? I’d love to buy a copy when it comes out.” Eleanor was leaning over Luna’s workspace to get a better look at the pixie.  
“Oh there’s no need Eleanor, it’s free of charge for friends, I’m only trying to spread knowledge.” Eleanor smiled fondly at Luna, hugging her quickly.  
“Good, well I’ll be thrilled when it comes out, let me know if you need any help gathering research materials.” Eleanor waved goodbye to Luna, leading Fred up the spiral stairs to her dorm room. Just as they got to the Sixth year girls dorm Eleanor heard the contraption Michael and Marietta had been leaning over shatter. Eleanor shook her head with a sigh. “I’m not surprised,” she told Fred. “that’s the third time they’ve tried to make invisibility potion, and I keep telling them ‘no way in hell a fourth year is going to brew something I doubt even Snape has brewed successfully more than once’, but they refuse to listen.”  
“Why are they brewing invisibility potion, or- failing to brew it?” Eleanor set her books and bag on the floor by her bed, levitating her gramophone to sit on her closed trunk. She began shuffling through the box of records Hestia Waters had sent, searching for something Fred would like.  
“To prove a point.” she answered, emerging victoriously with Pulp’s new album, which she had asked her mother for specifically.  
“What’s that?”  
“Muggle band.” she answered, putting the needle down and watching the record spin. “Dad inspired a bit of an obsession for muggle music.” she admitted, turning her playful grin to Fred. “Has your dad done the same for you about rubber ducks?”  
“Oh yes, I can’t get through a day without seeing a rubber duck, I have one I keep under my pillow.” he informed her, sprawling across her bed. “Her name is Justine.” he picked a bit of lint off his sweater and smoothed out the creases. “‘S’ good, this.” Fred said, gesturing to the gramophone.  
“Justine? Your duck is a girl?”  
Fred grinned, propping his head on his hand and rolling over to look at Eleanor. “Do I detect a hint of jealousy Waters?” Eleanor scoffed and turned away with her arms crossed.  
“In your dreams Weasley.”  
He pinched her sides playfully, making Eleanor squirm away from him. “Oh don’t worry Elly, no girl could ever replace you, no matter how yellow and rubbery they are.” his pinches became more like tickling and soon Eleanor was laughing loudly, pushing away  
“Fred stop being an idiot.” Eleanor turned around and grabbed his wrists, keeping his hands from tickling her as she fought the smile from her face. She looked him in the eye very seriously. Eleanor did her best to emanate McGonagall just before a lecture on safety, and Fred actually stopped fighting her grip to listen. “You must remain faithful to Justine.” she shrieked a laugh when Fred rolled his eyes and broke free from her hold on him. “I won’t be a homewrecker! I won’t!” she shouted before she again descended into a mess of laughter.  
“I can’t believe I actually thought you were going to say something serious.” Fred said once he decided he had tickled Eleanor enough. He scooched back to lean against her headboard.  
“I’m rarely serious.” she said.  
They sat quietly for a while, laying on opposite ends of her bed and listening to a Weird Sisters record. Eleanor had a Myron Wagtail poster on her wall, in her younger years she would kiss his picture every morning before going to class. Lou teased her about it, but then Eleanor had caught Lou doing the same thing to her Kirley Duke poster, and the girls had reached a mutual agreement to never speak of these incredibly embarrassing incidents again.  
“So you and Wood, eh?” Eleanor’s head popped up in surprise.  
“What?” she honestly believed she had misheard him.  
Fred’s jaw was ticking again, he was glaring to the side, refusing to meet her eyes. “You and Wood? I saw you together, looked awfully comfortable.”  
“Er, yeah, Woods a good bloke, don’t know him very well though.”  
“Are you dating him?”  
“No.” Eleanor was sat up fully now, scrutinizing Fred, who had softened when she said no. “Don’t see how that’s any of your business though.”  
He was angry again, turning her with furrowed brows. “I’m your friend, that makes it my business.” Eleanor scoffed and rolled her eyes.  
“It does not, Fred, I can date whoever I want!” his eyebrows rose in surprise.  
“I never said you couldn’t, I was only interested ‘s’all.” he had deflated significantly, cheeks reddening as his eyes darted around.  
“Yeah? Why d’you care though, Fred?” he scoffed.  
“I don’t care who you date, Waters, you can snog Snivellus for all I care.” she growled angrily and stepped off her bed.  
Eleanor’s fists were firmly on her hands, eyes furious, she looked like a mother about to scold her child. “Do you mean that?”

“Yeah.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

Eleanor turned on her heel and stomped out of her dorm. “Boys.” she said angrily as she stomped down the stairs, fists balled at her side.  
“Trouble in paradise?” called Augustus from his place on the couch, which incited the other Ravenclaw’s to snigger.  
Eleanor whipped around, eyes blazing, and for every step she took toward Augustus, the pleased smile on his face faded more.  
“Why’re you angry, Waters? Did Weasley finally break it off with you?”  
Eleanor was not thinking of anything but wiping that stupid smirk off Augustus’ face when she hexed him. She wasn’t normally a violent person, or the type of person who would resort to magic to sort out her disagreements with people. She found it tacky, always saying that anyone who resorted to violence to end arguments was probably illiterate and just afraid of losing. But Eleanor was properly angry then. She looked at Augustus and all she could see was Fred’s stupid angry jaw, ticking, but refusing to do anything about it. She could see Fred last year, leaning across the circle to kiss Harper Botts directly in front of her. It was Fred, images of his infuriating care free grin, it was like a game. A horrible endless game where absolutely no one could win, and she always ended up hurt. Why? Why didn’t he like her? Why couldn’t he just say something, Eleanor loved Fred more than almost anyone in the world, but he was still the cause of all of her heartaches.

So when Eleanor turned her wand on Augustus and used the scalping hex on him, she was not thinking straight. Augustus gave a satisfying screech when all the hair on his head fell off. The Ravenclaw students didn’t seem to know how to react. A couple gave surprised laughs and were soon full out cackling on the floor, while others seemed to be struck dumb by how quickly things had escalated. If Fred had chosen that moment to descend the stairs, she would have turned on him too, maybe a jelly-legs curse, or the bat-bogey hex was a classic. But he was infuriatingly absent, so she stomped away, all thoughts of studying for tomorrow’s class with Professor Moody forgotten as she broke into a sprint in the hall. She tried to run fast enough, leave all those horrible feelings in Ravenclaw tower, but it was useless.  
You can’t outrun yourself. So she found herself outside the Trophy room and she couldn’t run anymore, she dashed inside and curled herself in the corner of one of the benches, letting angry tears run down her face until she didn’t have any more. She was angry at herself above all other things, because who else’s fault could it be that she had invested so much in Fred Weasley? It wasn’t Fred’s fault she wanted something he couldn’t give, after all. She refused to sob, she didn’t make any noise at all, pressing her eyes into her knees until she felt herself stop shaking. Then, with a shuddering breath she rose.  
Fuck Fred Weasley.


	5. Ginger knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If My Heart Was A House - Owl City  
> Green - Cavetown  
> Cherry Wine - Hozier  
> Naruto Themed Sexting - Panucci's Pizza

“Elly? Why are you up so early?” Lou rose from her bed with a yawn

“Shit, Lou, sorry I don’t mean to wake you.”

“S’ okay.” Lou reassured Elly, turning her back on the girl and going back to sleep.

Eleanor waited a while longer to ensure that Lou was asleep before continuing to strap on her Quidditch gear. In the past weeks she hadn’t been able to sleep well and she soon resorted to wandering the grounds in the wee hours of the morning. She was just staying awake anyway, so she figured she might as well go out. Initially she had been taking a book and reading in the Astrology tower, then her attention had been drawn to Hagrid’s hut and she helped him feed whatever creature was in his care before going in for breakfast.

Two weeks into this routine she encountered another early bird. You can take the boy away from the quidditch field, but you can’t take quidditch away from the boy. Oliver Wood was still doing his training from five to six every morning, taking his broom out and doing push ups. He had invited her to lift weights, an offer she had politely declined, but now they are having one-on-one quidditch matches every morning. One quaffle, two chasers. It wasn’t nearly as exciting if you weren’t worried about a bludger hitting you, but it certainly felt nice to fly again. Especially in the morning, the cold air would nip at her cheeks and sting her eyes. She felt like a wind sprite, careless and free, the only thing to worry about was deciding what flower she would sleep in. Of course, eventually she would have to return to the ground and continue being a human. But she was grateful to Oliver for these brief respites.

He met her at the quidditch field, already doing his stretches. His eyes brightened when he saw her.

“Waters, you’re here later than usual.”

Eleanor pulled her hair into a ponytail. “I woke Lou up and I had to wait for her to fall asleep again.”

There was this odd thing Eleanor and Oliver would do to greet each other, where they would tap their elbows together in place of a handshake, or a muggle high five. It began by accident, and when the pair had bumped their elbows together too many times they began to do it on purpose.

“D’you wanna toss a coin?” Oliver shook his head.

“Ladies first.”

Eleanor arched an eyebrow in amusement but conceded, picking up a stray quaffle and trying to brush off the mud. “I’ve a feeling you’re going to regret that decision Wood.”

He grinned. “Probably will, Waters.”

He did end up regretting it. By the time the hour was up, Eleanor was only fifteen points ahead. Which she pointed out the whole way back to the showers. ‘Oliver Wood, beat by fifteen points. What was it like, Ollie? To be so close to victory?’ Oliver scoffed and claimed that tomorrow morning he wouldn’t be as chivalrous. It took an especially long time to scrub her hair free of the mud that had been matted in it, as Eleanor was beginning to prove incapable of playing a single game of quidditch without falling on the floor. She had landed head first in the mud, Oliver had been so concerned, jumping off his broom to see if she needed help, but she had laughed, trying and failing to wipe mud from her eye. She stared at herself in the mirror when she had finished getting ready and inspected her hair one more time. Yes, that would do.

She hadn’t really spoken to Fred since that day in her dorm room. They hadn’t said anything else, there just seemed to be a mutual agreement that they both needed space. Eleanor had been contributing far too much time to him without getting what she considered productive results. Fred was being possessive without giving Eleanor any sort of indication he even wanted a relationship. Maybe it was better to let him go. But for course, she had been in love with him for three years so he wasn’t exactly easy to forget. It wasn’t that she never wanted to speak to Fred again, she still held him in very high esteem, their friendship was strong and she could never do without them. But without getting any commitment to a relationship of a romantic nature she began to question how healthy her feelings for Fred were. She couldn’t even look at him anymore without her heart lurching. She avoided him completely, never meeting his eyes and pretending he didn’t exist.

Naturally, their friends were concerned. Both Fred and Eleanor had been thick as thieves, the only person Fred spent more time with was George. Then all of a sudden it was like any memory of the other had been locked again. All it took was to say Fred’s name and Eleanor would detach from the conversation, like her mind had been absconded by a cloud, and it was floating just above their reach. Fred would stop laughing. It was strange to see Fred go so long without laughing, he always seemed to find something amusing, and when he could not be entertained, he would entertain. George was more at a loss for what to do than anyone. He tried reasoning with Fred, but the more George advised him to speak to Eleanor, the more Fred’s resolve not to was hardened. It wasn’t that they didn’t know how to fix the relationship. They did. Both Fred and Eleanor knew that if they apologized, everything would fall back into an easy rhythm. They could easily become friends again, and dance around each other, as if a great fire was burning between them, and if they got too close it would burn them. Eleanor didn’t want to dance, but she didn’t know how to stop. Fred… she couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t apologize. Pride? Did he feel he had been wronged when she rightly said that he had no claim to her? She couldn’t understand, and she wouldn’t ask for an explanation.

Even as Eleanor walked into the Great Hall her eyes darted around, instantly spotting Fred and George at the Gryffindor table. She closed her eyes as she walked, trying to calm down, because even the sight of him was enough to weaken her resolve to ignore him. But there was a wall that stood between her happiness. A small part of her that was too weak to be close to Fred and love him as she did. She quickly darted between tables to get to Lou more quickly. Once she had something to think of she could drown him out. But Lou and the rest of the 6th year Ravenclaws were sitting parallel to Fred and George, Lou was turned around, showing them something she had scribbled on a piece of parchment. Into the griffin's cave. She sat across from Emma and made sure not to swivel her head a centimeter to the right. They hadn’t noticed her yet, so she tried to be discrete.

“Eleanor? Merlin, you were in there so long I started to think you’d drowned.” She tried to downplay her surprise when Oliver called out to her, but the Weasley’s had caught on.

“Hey Ollie, it took ages to get all that mug out of her hair.” she touched it absently, suddenly self conscious and wondering if she did leave any mud in her hair.

“I can imagine it must’ve been difficult, you took quite the fall.” Oliver tilted his head around to inspect her head. “Looks good.” he informed her with a nod. “I’ve got to go now, see you tomorrow morning?”

Eleanor nodded. “Bright and early Ollie, I won’t be late this time.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Waters.” Eleanor bumped his elbow, and after bidding a quick goodbye to his friends he left.

Eleanor couldn’t help that her eyes darted to Fred, wondering if her friendship with Oliver could be misinterpreted. Oliver was a good friend, he had been there when she had needed him to be, playing quidditch in the wee hours of the morning so she wouldn’t have to be alone with her thoughts. His jaw was set, dark eyes searching the room solemnly, until they found hers. She could see the question he wanted to ask in them. She shook her head. He gave no indication that he had understood her, he only switched his focus to his brother, who was telling Lee a story which, if the gestures he was making are any indication, involved a vast amount of explosives. Eleanor drank her coffee in two gulps and grabbed a blueberry muffin.

“You’re leaving already?” Lou frowned through her mouthful of toast. “Where’re you going?”

“The Library just got the newest edition of Bumblezora, I want to check it out before anyone else.” Lou took a swig of tea and scrambled to chase after Eleanor.

“Are those books really as good as you say they are?”

Eleanor sighed dreamily, placing a hand on her heart. “Better.”

“I’ll have to check it out then.”

"You really should, I think you’d love it Lou.” Eleanor traced the base of the marble statues they were passing with the tips of her fingers.

Eleanor and Lou spent the half hour remaining finding as many of the books they read when they were children as they could. Eleanor liked reading the books she had loved as a child, it brought her back to happier days, she supposed, before the world had been so dark. It began when she traced the cover of Tumulus’ Tales, a comedy book about a toad that was composed almost purely of puns, some of which were far more inappropriate than she remembered them being as a child. She remembered reading it in the living room after dinner.

When DADA started Eleanor and Lou ended up being the last to arrive. Of course the only seats available were with Fred and George. The classroom Moody was using had tables to seat four to account for the larger classes with Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Lou sat between Fred and Eleanor.

Eleanor trained her eyes ahead, not daring to let her gaze stray from Professor Moody as he gave his introduction. Eleanor’s penetrating gaze didn’t escape the professor’s notice and he called on her to answer the first question.

“Now, Ms. Waters, can you name one of the Unforgivable Curses?”

“The Cruciatus curse, sir.”

“Can you perform the Cruciatus curse, Mr. Waters?” Eleanor looked to Lou, making sure that she hadn’t heard the professor wrong. But Lou was just as shocked.

“Er, aren’t they unforgivable, sir?” Moody was rummaging around his desk, lifting jars with powders and herbs, until he found one with a lone spider. He reached in the jar and deposited the spider on Eleanor’s desk.

“It’s quite easy, Eleanor, are you do is point.” Eleanor watched the spider wander around her desk and she shook her head. She had wanted so desperately for Moody to like her, and here she was in her first lesson, already defying him.

“I can’t sir, I won’t.” she told him firmly.

Moody tutted, but argued no further. “Very well, but you should at least be able to recognize it, Ms. Waters,” he lifted his head to address the rest of the room. “The point of this class is to teach you to defend yourself against dark magic, the only way to do that is to know what you are defending yourself against.” he pointed his wand at the spider. “Crucio.”

“Oi! Stop it!” Fred stood, looking on the verge of pushing Moody away from Eleanor if the situation called for it. George stood with his brother, both of them glaring Moody down, who only regarded them with one stone cold eye, the other trained on Eleanor.

“Very well, then would you name another Unforgivable Curse, Mr. Weasley? Or would you prefer to take over the management of the whole class?”

Fred sat back down uneasily, his eyes met Eleanor’s before he sat down, his intensity still burning. It had been horrible, even for that millisecond to see the spider tortured like that.

“Professor Moody, may I be excused?” Eleanor’s yes were trained on the lines in her wooden desk. “I feel ill.”

“Yes, Waters, get straight to the infirmary, come back if you’re feeling better before the end of the lesson.”

The classroom was dead silent as Eleanor’s chair scraped against the stone floor and she hurried to leave. She didn’t turn to the infirmary when she was supposed to. She climbed the stairs until she got to the owlery, no one would be there in the morning, which made it the perfect place. Eleanor wasn’t sure how she had expected her first DADA lesson to go, but it was certainly better than that. She had fallen apart at the first sign of pressure. She expected to be more resilient, to look dark magic and evil in the face and find herself strong enough to tell ut to fuck off. But she couldn’t close her eyes without seeing the dark mark, the muggle boy that was alive and looked dead, and now the Cruciatus curse. The Cruciatus curse had been used on her mother when the war was going on. Bartimus Crouch Jr. himself had turned his wand to her mother and uttered that single horrible word. Crucio. But Eleanor could not expect herself to live up to the name Waters if she couldn’t even say the word.

“Moody sent me up to find you.” Eleanor jumped at the sound of Lou’s voice. She stood in the doorway. “Are you alright?” Lou asked softly.

Eleanor shook her head and Lou hurried to give her a hug. “He had no right to ask that of you, Elly, you’re right to be upset, and you were certainly right to say no.”

“Did you see it Lou? The spider?”

“I did.”

“Wasn’t it horrible?” Eleanor tightened her grip around her friend, hoping to replace all her memories with the way it felt to be hugged.

“Fred’s really worried, he yelled at Moody after you left.” Eleanor laughed softly.

“Did he? I imagine Moody didn’t take that very well.”

“It could’ve been worse, he doesn’t have detention, but Moody yelled back. I think that if I don’t get back soon he’ll come looking for you.”

Eleanor nodded and walked with Lou back to the classroom. They sat outside for the five minutes that remained of the class to end. Eleanor smiled up at Fred when he walked by, he returned her smile, with a fuzzy hesitancy, like he wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do. Her heart broke a little then, because Fred shouldn’t feel like he wasn’t allowed to smile at her.

“Fred!” she called after him. He spun around at the sound of her voice.

“Yes?”

“Thanks.” he grinned, without an ounce of hesitation, before falling back into step with his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a little shorter than usual, but I had to cut off a bit of the end. I'll make it up to you in the next chapter, I promise.


End file.
